


VanVen Drabbles & Requests

by bookwormally



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble Collection, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2020-05-30 21:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/pseuds/bookwormally
Summary: A collection of the drabbles & requests I've done over on my tumblr. All related to Vanitas & Ventus, but covering many AUs and canon settings.Chapter titles will include setting/request.





	1. Post-KH3, Vanitas's destination

For a long time, there is nothing but the soft sound of water, the tide going in and out as slow as a sleeping heartbeat. The waves are breath, drawn in……and out. He’s not aware of the source or the cause, only that it is there, drawing him into sleep and holding him there. 

Warmth is the next thing to reach his awareness. Comfort and softness wrapped around him, allowing no pain or aches. For a while, he enjoys nothing but the _lack_ of feeling that he had, but so briefly before it was taken from him again. 

Light comes third and is what finally causes him to stir. It falls over his face, no real presence to it, and yet it feels like fingers brushing his cheek, urging him to awaken. He opens an eye, squinting at the brightness. 

The waves are muted now, but still there, and Vanitas shades his face as he sits up slowly. The room is unfamiliar at first, but his eyes catch on the star hanging off one of the bedposts, silver and green. Stars are everywhere when he looks again, stuck to the ceiling and hanging on the walls, glimmering slightly between plants and bookshelves.

But the green one calls and he reaches out to take it. Ventus’s wayfinder is warm in his hand, practically lights up, and he looks again around Ventus’s room. There are no people, no chair pulled aside the bed to indicate someone waiting for him to wake. No sound comes from the hall, footsteps or muffled whispers as someone passes by the door. He’s alone. 

But the waves continue and he turns to the window. Vanitas throws the latch and shoves them open, hissing through his teeth as the sunlight blinds him. The points of Ven’s wayfinder press into his hand as he squeezes it, squinting past the sunshine. 

The Land of Departure doesn’t have a sea, but a beach spreads out below the window. It’s a beach he knows very well, where the stars hang from the trees, and Vanitas closes his eyes. He leans on the windowsill, letting the sea breeze tug at his hair. His eyes reopen and he holds the wayfinder out so it catches the light off the waves. 

He can almost hear the whisper on the wind, _Welcome home._


	2. Modern AU, Disney World

The Florida sun is almost as blinding as the smile Ventus is wearing as he drags Vanitas by the hand straight down Main Street USA.

Vanitas, entirely too used to this sort of behavior, pushes his sunglasses slightly higher on his nose and squints at the castle straight ahead. The crowd is denser, because photos, and he does not want to shove through it. He sighs, knowing that his boyfriend will not be easily stopped. Ventus has plans for today and he will check every box or die trying.

He’d rather not have his obituary involved fucking Disney World, so it’s up to him to inject sense into the day. Vanitas “bastion of common sense” Hikari. The community at large would find the concept laughable. He does as he always does and ignores what the world at large thinks of him.

Vanitas gives Ventus’s hand a tug, slowing him up before they run straight into the mass of fanatical mouse lovers. “Ventus, come on, this way.”

“But-!”

The best way to deter Ventus from something is to redirect him. Vanitas starts to turn him toward the circular path that will lead to Liberty Square. “A picture will look better nearer to sunset and there will be fewer people right fucking here. Let’s go ride some shit.”

Ventus glances around them, but lets Vanitas take the lead on their direction. “It’ll get super packed for the fireworks. We can’t wait all day.”

“You could not get a picture right in front of the damned castle.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Fanatic.”

Ventus squeezes his hand. “You agreed to come, Vani. You agreed to have fun.”

“And I will. I will have fun listening to the screams of terrified children.”

“Oh come on, you are obsessed with the mansion!” Ventus steps closer, out of the path of a rushing teenager, and bumps their elbows together. “I knew we were going to be in line for it at least three times.”

Vanitas grins at him. “It’s a classic and not outside in this damn sun.”

“Ah of course, your poor delicate skin.”

“I will dump you in the river and watch the boat run you over.”

Ventus puts his free hand to his forehead. “Oh sweep me off my feet, Prince Charming. You know most couples want to do things like get pictures in front of the castle and share spaghetti at Tony’s. One doesn’t threaten to drown the other.”

Vanitas scoffs, “Please. You think threats don’t come up in Disney World? You really are brainwashed by the rat. No vacation is stress free and if you don’t think about choking your significant other at least once during the worst of it, then you’re not actually human.”

“Violence isn’t allowed in Disney World. There’s a spell over the whole park so any choking turns into loving caresses.”

“For some people, those are the same thing.”

Ventus shoves his shoulder. “You’re disgusting.” But, he’s grinning and Vanitas grins back. “Fine, we’ll go on Haunted Mansion first and then again after lunch and again once it’s dark. Admit it, Vanitas, this place owns you as much as it does me.”

Vanitas shrugs. “My brother’s obsessed. I had to find something to enjoy when we were coming here every summer. What’s not to appreciate about a bunch of murderous ghosts…and the effects are cool.”

Ventus points at him. “See, see. There’s something here for everyone.”

“God, shut up. I’m going to start swearing at top volume in front of all the kids.”

Bickering, but with their hands wrapped together, they continue further into the park.

By late afternoon, despite liberal application of sunscreen and layers and staying inside whenever possible, Vanitas has a sunburn. He grumbles a little as he presses an ice cool glass to his pink cheek. Fuck, it feels so good. Where’s the ice bath ride when he needs it?

Ventus glances at him, but goes back to the menu, debating which overpriced meal to pick. Vanitas glares at the back of it, deciding this whole thing is Ventus’s fault despite the fact that he had been the one to insist he didn’t need a hat. They’re all so cutesy and he will not suffer some things.

Vanitas closes his eyes and switches his glass to the other cheek. He feels melted and summer can go die in an icy blast from the mountains that he’s moving to the second he’s free of this mouse-run hell.

A tiny breeze starts up directly at him and Vanitas cracks an eye. Ventus is waving his menu to make the air move and smiles sheepishly. “You look pretty bad. Should we go after we eat? If you get heat stroke, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He sticks his tongue out at Ventus and closes his eyes again. “It’s fine. I’m not leaving before the damn fireworks show. Worst of the heat should be over soon.” The glass moves to his forehead and between it and Ventus’s breeze, he might stave off hating the sun forever for a couple more hours.

Ventus buys a Minnie Mouse hat and shoves it on Vanitas’s head after lunch. It’s stupid, but almost matches his yellow sunglasses. He leaves it on even with all the pictures he knows Ventus is taking. Better to finish the day repping the better mouse than collapse like an asshole. Ventus buys a pair of Mickey ears that look ridiculous sticking out of his hair, but it makes Vanitas smile anyway.

Stupid Disney brainwashing and Ventus’s smile.

Vanitas breaks the moment by asking for the third time that day when they’re going to finally find the swamp and meet Shrek. Ventus shoves him so hard that he almost runs directly into a lampost. He to run and catch up before Ventus gets in line for the next ride without him.

After the sun goes down, the plaza is just as crowded as Ventus warned at the start of the day. Vanitas counts himself lucky that they found a decent spot against one of the light posts. It’s much more comfortable behind his back than almost slamming his face into it. He leans back as Ventus leans against his chest; his arms wrap around Ventus’s shoulders and he yawns.

The thankfully cooler evening air is a balm against his face, only disrupted by Ventus leaning their heads together. There’s talk all around them, people shouting as they try to find each other in the crowd before the first firework goes up. They’ve still got a few minutes and Vanitas closes his eyes. Exhaustion drags at him, an active day surrounded by people has drained him. But Ventus shifts in his arms, still energetic as they wait for the magical end of the day.

“Pst, Vani, wake up.” Ventus pokes his arm. “Come on, just for a second.”

“What. I’ll know when the show starts. It’s hard to miss the explosions.” Still, he opens his eyes again.

Ventus has his head turned to smile at him. “Thank you. Now, smile for me.” He holds his phone up and out, clearly trying to capture both of them.

Vanitas rolls his eyes, but as Ventus presses their heads together, he smiles for him. He’ll look like an idiot, Minnie Mouse hat on and cheeks sunburned, but he doesn’t give a damn. All he cares about is the smile Ventus wears and the light in his eyes.

The first firework goes up just as Vanitas turns to kiss him.


	3. Various AUs, 3 sentence prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I gave up on the 3 sentence rule like one prompt in.
> 
> 1st: Stardust  
> 2nd: Rockstar/Band AU  
> 3rd: Rival Spies

No one ever said that stars were people, not even in the legends.

No one ever said that people could be stars, not even in their dreams.

Ventus stands at the rail of the ship, halfway between the earth and the heavens, and feels every mile of distance from his home. Everyone has been after him for their reasons. _The heart of a star, their stupid necklace, to win the respect of the one I lo-_.

Steps thump over the deck, but Ventus ignores it. He looks up at the sky, his family so far away, and refuses to cry.

Rough, but warm, a blanket is put over his shoulders. Vanitas leans on the rail, not looking at him. His face is always drawn tight with things he won’t say. He’s always so _gruff_ or even just rude. Ven glances at him, fingers pulling the blanket tighter around him. What it is, what it reminds him of…

“Tell me about them,” Vanitas says, voice quiet, but firm. His gaze is fixed on the stars too.

Ven blinks and then lifts a hand to point above them. He tells their stories, his family and the endless beautiful things they’ve seen.

Vanitas gives up on looking at the stars above them after but a minute or two. The glow of the star beside him is much more captivating, alight with love even when he’s far from them.

* * *

“Who the fuck stole my drumsticks?! I had them right here!”

Ven forces himself to only move his mouth lest Vanitas take his eye out with the eyeliner pencil. “They should be sitting by your water bottle, Lea! I didn’t want someone to slip.”

“Fuck, just tell me next time.” Lea snatches them up and twirls them between his fingers. “Ready.”

“Not ready,” Vanitas snaps. “I’m not going out there with Ventus not made up. Fucking front man without his face on, garbage.”

Ventus rolls his eyes. “I had other things to do like a _sound check?”  
_

Vanitas drags the pencil out in a wing, a bit harder than necessary, and then pulls it away. “Bullshit. There, check yourself.”

Ven doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror. He stands up and hooks his arms around Vanitas’s shoulders. “Perfect.”

“Idiot.” Vanitas almost puts a hand to his face, remembers his work, and then shoves at Ven’s shoulder instead. “Let’s go. Lea can’t warm a crowd up for shit on his own.”

“I resent that!”

Ven smacks a kiss onto Vanitas’s cheek that leaves a bright green mark there and then hurries away before the inevitable furious response. “Let’s go!”

* * *

There are so many gadgets and weapons and even random items that could be used to fight against one another.

They both prefer the less obvious approach: smirking at each other from across the room, the other’s target caught in their trap, or even just trading hissed insults as they pass by each other.

The one thing they never touch is the sharpest; neither Ventus nor Vanitas will forget the night they spent pressed together in the smallest of shelters as a city burned around them, unsure if they’d make it till dawn. They clutched hands and waited for hours for the sun to rise.


	4. Merpeople AU

There are places that most mers don’t dare go; places that some of them cannot reach. The freshwater mers cannot swim through the ocean; the ocean mers cannot swims through the lakes. Almost no mercreatures can swim to the depths of the trenches where the pressure is so extreme it would squeeze the breath from them and then so much worse.

Ventus is meant to stay where the sun still reaches, enjoying the salty water and the sun dappling through the waves. He’s made for flitting among the coral and the fish that live there, hiding in pale blue water and sunshine. Still, he finds himself drawn to where the water goes dark and deep.

At first, it’s just the mystery, the wonder, the flickers of movement and strange lights he can see beneath. Then he dares to dive a bit deeper, following a flickering group of lights into the dark.

It becomes harder to breathe, but he follows. The strange red lights are leading him somewhere, he’s sure of it. Just a bit further… Everything goes dark as he desperately tries to suck in another breath through his gills.

He comes to with the sunlight barely reaching him and a shadow over his face. _Dark_ , his mind whispers. _Very dark_. And they are dark, the mercreature looking down at him. Their hair is very dark and so are the spots that cover their pale skin. But their eyes practically glow red, just like the lights he was following.

“Idiot,” the creature hisses, tones different than the ones Ventus knows, difficult to understand. “Stay in the shallows where you belong.” They disappear from above him and he struggles upright. They’re diving back down into the dark; he sees those red eyes again as they glance back, and then they’re gone.

He exhales, feeling dizzy. _Are all the mers that live in the depths so beautiful?_ He’ll have to find out. He at least needs to learn their name to say thank you.


	5. Superhero AU, Hero & Villain

“He’s going to destroy the city.” Ventus’s voice is so flat, so empty, so _defeated_. It’s wrong and Vanitas is instantly on edge. “He’s going to destroy the city and kill anyone who can’t get out in time.”

Vanitas taps his foot. “Then what are you doing here? Go stop him!”

Ventus stares down at his hands, covered in scars and scratches; they sit lifelessly in his lap. “I can’t. He already, Terra’s-.” He chokes off, curling forward with his shoulders shaking.

_Terra’s-._ Vanitas’s hands clench at his sides and then he kneels down beside Ventus. “You listen to me. You can’t think about that. You’re a hero. This city fucking needs you. Even if you can’t do much, you can stand up to him. A hero doesn’t just stop villains; you _inspire_ regular people to be better.”

Ven shakes his head and Vanitas wants to smack. Fighting, disagreeing, clashing over and over again and now, Ven just _gives up to some other asshole_? Vanitas hisses and stands again.

“Fine. Stay here as the city gets destroyed. See if I fucking care. I always told you being a hero was nothing but shit.” Vanitas starts to walk away. Ventus doesn’t want to believe him after all they’ve been through? Fine, then.

Vanitas will show him.

After, the media tries to explain it away. There’s no reason for a villain like The Eternal Void to interfere with another villain’s plans. He spends all his time causing his own destruction.

Yet there’s no way to entirely explain away the footage of the villain charging in, hands blazing with energy, to try and stop The Empty One from making good on his threats. There’s no official explanation from anyone, not even from the hero that flew into save the Eternal Void.

The images spread over and over, unstoppable, inexplicable except for one possibility: he had wanted to save their home just as much as any hero.

When Vanitas wakes in the hospital, Ventus is asleep beside him, and the news is playing softly on the tv. He stares at it in confusion, the reporter speaking to people on the street now sporting pins and patches and even a shirt with his emblem.

A hand finds his and squeezes, and Ven smiles at him. “A hero inspires everyone.”


	6. War AU, starcrossed lovers & scars

The first time they met, they were enemies. They crossed blades and tried to tear each other to shreds when their weapons were lost in the dirt. Loyalty was what drove them, loyalty beyond logic, beyond understanding. They would face each other until one was gone.

They survived the first battle, their first interaction, not without marks. The scar over Vanitas’s chest is ropey even years later, the wound had not healed cleanly. Ventus traces it with his fingers in a stolen evening and remembers how glad he had been to see the blood on his weapon. He still has to be glad even if the memory makes him weep instead.

The scars on Ventus are smaller, harder to see, and properly seen to quicker. But they are still there, and Vanitas knows them better than the maps he studies daily. He knows the little scars, from training and from life, on Ventus’s hands and arms. He knows of the one that cut deep into his left shoulder, now always covered in armor. He knows the one that covers a large part of Ventus’s back the best, he caused it after all. The rough pink texture of skin that has been burned and then healed as much as possible, Vanitas brushes his fingers over it so carefully as Ventus sleeps.

Enemies should never meet for reasons other than combat. Yet, they kept finding each other. Injured, exhausted, weak, dragging each other back up and forward because no one else would. Because no one else understood what it meant to have nothing but the things given by those in power, and the fear of those things being taken away.

It wasn’t supposed to grow. It wasn’t supposed to change. They weren’t supposed to find common ground and then more.

He hadn’t meant to roll Ventus against the coals while trying to hide him. That Ventus had not screamed…it haunts Vanitas, the image of tears rolling down his face as he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood.

They lived, but there is always pain.  
There is always pain between them.

They have nothing but what was given to them and what little they have stolen for themselves. Each moment comes with new scars, new pain, and the most painful of feelings: hope.

They fought one another, viciously and _brutally_ the first time.

With every “next time,” they wonder how much longer they can last. When it is over, they cannot both remain.

Ventus kisses him harder rather than wonder while they are still together. Vanitas cannot stop thinking of the worst, but he breaks just a little each time Ventus’s arms wrap around him.

The war will end, a victor will rise, and one of them will know peace. Until then, they have one another and the pain.


	7. KH3 divergent, "come back"

“Join us and fight against him.” Ven’s hand is held out between them. There are others around, Sora and Ventus’s friends, but it’s like it’s only the two of them yet again.

Vanitas stares at him, half-shielded by the darkness of his mask. “Why should I? I’m not light. I’m darkness, your enemy.”

Ventus shakes his head slowly, arm still stubbornly out and open. “We’re more than that. We’re more than what Xehanort tried to make us into.” His eyes are so bright even though they’ve changed colors since their last conflict. Vanitas left his mark on Ventus.

Did Ventus leave a mark on him?

“Vanitas,” Ventus says, hand still waiting. “Come home.”

Vanitas sucks in a breath sharply, but it is nothing to the way the words make his chest split open. He presses a hand over his heart and closes his eyes _,_ memories burning in the back of his mind. _It had felt so right for those brief moments where they were I once again_.

His eyes open and he steps forward. He takes the hand and feels it burn right through him. “It took you long enough.”

Ventus smiles at him and squeezes his hand tightly. “Your fault.” He pulls Vanitas forward, embracing him before Vanitas can argue blame. “I missed you.”

Vanitas slowly wraps his arms around Ventus’s back. It’s such a different feeling than the ones he’s known for so long. It’s warm.

_Welcome home_.


	8. Post-KH3, Hold me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quote mashup request:
> 
> 69\. “When you touch me I feel a little less broken.”  
> 98\. “Can you just…hold me? Just for tonight.”

Vanitas can’t do this. He can’t fucking do this. This place is full of people and they all keep _looking_ at him. And if he reacts how he wants to then they’ll turn on him. They’ll turn on him and that’ll be it. It’ll be over.

The fact that he doesn’t want it to be over is supposed to be a good thing. It only make him feel worse.

The air’s too thick and he can’t breathe it in properly. His mask, he needs that. That will keep them from looking, from seeing him breaking apart, breaking down into the monster again.

Vanitas clenches his hands in his hair, teeth dug into his lower lip so he doesn’t scream. _Stop it, stop it, stop it!_

Someone comes up behind him and he whips around, lashing out with an arm. They grab him by the wrist, their hand firm and warm. _He knows that touch in the marrow of his bones_.

Ventus keeps a hold of his arm, sliding his hand to Vanitas’s wrist as he sits down beside him. Vanitas wants to hide behind him, wants to disappear back into Ventus, but the idea of _feeling even more_ … It’s too much.

He shudders and lets Ventus keep a hold of one arm as he hides his face with the other. Ventus sits quietly, holding what’s been allowed, and waits. The warmth of his fingers is an anchor and despite himself, Vanitas focuses on it instead of everything else.

The bond between them is warm with Ventus’s attention as well. His light is calming and steady. Vanitas wants it to be wrapped around him like a blanket, softness that he can hold without hurting himself.

Vanitas moves his arm until his hand finds Ventus’s, intertwining their fingers. Ventus squeezes, still so gentle, and Vanitas wants to sob. He doesn’t deserve this. He’d rather they were sparring and Ventus was putting him into the dirt. He understands that and the way it makes him feel.

This hurts even though it’s kind.

He twists and Ventus is already there, other arm out. Vanitas buries his face in Ven’s shoulder, still shaking. Ven embraces him, rubbing his back, and mumbling comforting nonsense into his ear. _It’s okay, it’s okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it really will be okay._

Vanitas just hangs on as the roaring and buzzing in his mind quiets bit by bit. Ventus is his other half, of course he only feels something resembling alright with him.

He feels fingers tangle in his hair and his exhale shudders out of him. “Our room, please?” he asks in a croak.

“Sure, that’s easy.” Ven gives him another minute and then they’re standing. Vanitas doesn’t look up, doesn’t look at anything but their feet as Ven winds through the halls into they reach their door.

Ven pulls him into bed and now Vanitas presses his face to Ven’s chest. He can hear the thump of his heartbeat, so loud, so close. _Home_ , it whispers to him. _Home, home, home_.

Vanitas breathes the much clearer air and relaxes with Ventus’s arms wrapped around him. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but kind hands and a steady beat follow him into dreams.


	9. KH3 divergent, Vanitas at the LoD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 22\. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

The weight of a gaze is something impossible to measure. It flutters over your skin, a touch never really there. It’s felt, but it isn’t real.

Ventus’s gaze _burns_ against his skin. 

Vanitas is always aware of it because it adds such a sharp sensation on top of his regular senses. He covers his skin, pulls on gloves and layers, and still he feels it. Ventus’s eyes linger on him, always so bright, so sharp; his emotions dancing just out of Vanitas’s reach.

Fingers trace over the shape of the Unversed, a Flood’s head, a Hareraiser’s ears, always so gentle and careful. Vanitas feels it like ghosts brushing at his skin. He shudders and pulls his emotions back under his skin, leaving nothing for Ventus to do but look.

He doesn’t look back. There’s too much in Ventus’s gaze, too much waiting, too much feeling. He’s sick of Ventus’s feelings; he has too much of his own constantly pulling him apart.

He doesn’t look back when Ventus is looking. When Ventus is looking away, looking at his friends, at the stars, at anything but Vanitas, then he watches.

Smiles come easily to Ventus and they fit on his face. _Would they, did they fit so well on their face? Would I have ever smiled like that?_ His eyes are bright blue in the sunshine, the sky he loves shining from his face. _The winds and the sky are free and I used to be a part of them too._ Happiness flows from him as easily as negativity spills from Vanitas’s pores. _I hate you, I hate you, I **hate you.**_

Ventus is his light, his origin, and like any speck exposed to gravitational forces, Vanitas is pulled in.

He watches Ventus live. He watches Ventus grow. He and his friends becoming stronger and brighter with every day that passes.

Shadows are supposed to grow as the light does, but all Vanitas does is shrink. 

Ventus doesn’t need him. He has so much more than a cast off piece.

Vanitas takes to hiding even more. If he withdraws, then he’ll never have to see that they don’t notice that he’s gone.

No one looks in dark corridors or dusty rooms for a lost shadow. Only the stars see him when he pulls himself onto the roof and considers the ground so far below.

He’s alone just like he’s always hated.

Ventus appears from nowhere, a star fallen to earth. He sits beside Vanitas, close enough that their arms brush. It burns, but it’s warm while the night is frozen around them. Vanitas presses his arm slightly closer.

Ventus looks at him suddenly, giving his face the same focus that he gives the stars. “Do you hate us?”

_Yes._ “I don’t care about any of you. I don’t know why I’m here other than for you to feel superior about saving me.” Vanitas stares straight ahead, unable to take those eyes.

“You hate me.” A statement, a fact.

_I hate you, I hate you, I need you and you don’t need me and I hate y-._

“I hate everything. Thought you’d be used to it.”

Ventus is silent, but it only lasts a moment. All of them talk too much.

“Sometimes…I see you looking at me. You always look away.”

There is nothing he can say to that that won’t open up a million bleeding wounds. Vanitas chooses silence.

“If you hate me, then…why do your eyes always look like that? I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice, Vanitas. It’s always burning into my skin.”

Vanitas looks at him then. “What?”

Ventus looks away this time, back to the stars. One arm wraps around his chest, guarding his center. “When you look at me, I can feel it. It’s so…heavy.”

_It burns him too.  
_

Vanitas looks at the space between their arms now. _It burns._ He reaches out slowly and brushes his fingers over Ventus’s arm. It’s like his fingers are giving off sparks, they’re warmer than the rest of him. “It hurts to look at you,” he confesses. “You’re complete.”

“So are you, Vanitas.”

“No, I’m not. If I was…I’d be able to look back at you.”

Ventus’s fingers cover his own and warmth spreads up Vanitas’s arm. He looks up slowly and Ven is waiting for him. His eyes are soft, too soft for the likes of him, but Vanitas meets them this time. The ache inside him grows, but before he can pull away, look away, Ven closes the distance.

All the things that made him burn, the things that made him hurt, the emotions always hanging in the air between them, they are compressed as their lips brush together. He doesn’t understand, he overflows with things he cannot name, but they don’t hurt.

When Ven pulls back, their noses brushing together, Vanitas sees all the things he’s ever felt toward his light matched in bright blue eyes.

He starts looking closer.


	10. Canon Divergent, Vanitas visits Ventus's hidden body

_Once upon a time, a sleeping boy was locked away in a tower. He dreamed endlessly, but was doomed to never awaken until the spell was broken. Only true love’s kiss would free him.  
_

“What a ridiculous story.”

The paper tears easily as he grasps the page and pulls it from its binding. He lets it go and it drifts to the floor joining the others that have been scattered around the throne. The book sags in his grip, little left for it to hold together.

The covers hit the ground with a defeated thump after he throws it away. Garbage with useless garbage.

His boots crumple the pages beneath him as he walks from his seat to the throne at the center. 

_The sleeping prince with hair of gold stared up at the sky and dreamt of the day he’d be free._

“Stories. Is that all they filled your head with? No wonder you were so…weak.”

He leans down, putting his hands on the arm of the chair. Its occupant doesn’t stir, chest rising and falling.

Nothing ever changes here, an empty room full of nothing.

Even the pages are such a white that they blend into the floor.

Useless garbage.

_The Enchantress saw that his heart was monstrous and thus, she turned him into a beast. Heart and body matched and she left him in a prison with only the thinnest thread of hope to cling to: find someone to love a beast._

“You’ll wake up someday. Something will bring you back. I was stronger than you, but you broke us. If I have to be here again, then you will be too.”

He lifts a hand. For a moment, it hovers over the unguarded throat. His fingers brush a cheek that’s warm even through his gloves. The prince in the chair exhales and turns into the touch.

“Ventus,” Vanitas whispers. “I want to be free.”

_The tower is locked. The only way to reach the top and free the trapped heart is to climb._


	11. KH3 Divergent, cuddling in bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little request from twitter that I had so much fun with. God, I love writing fluff

The last of the light has bled from the sky and Ven sighs as he leans on the windowsill and watches the stars blink to life in the dark. He could watch the sky for hours, and has, but even now he can feel the tug on the back of his shirt. Without turning around, he swats at it. “You’re being needy.”

“It’s _winter_. Close the damn window.”

“No.” Ven watches the sky, tracing the constellations he knows until he’s counted seven of them. Only then does he look over his shoulder.

Vanitas is wrapped in two heavy blankets and glaring at him. “I’m not sharing with you.”

Ven sticks his tongue out. “You absolutely are.”

“No, your fingers are cold now and I’m not touching that.”

He looks at his fingers and then reaches to shut the window. The room is nice and chilly, just how Ven likes it. Sure, he can sleep almost anywhere, but he loves a cool room with a blanket to curl up in. Even better are arms wrapped around him under said blankets.

Ven crawls the small distance to the burrito Vanitas has made of himself. He tugs at the blanket, but Vanitas smirks at him. “No loose ends.”

“Oh, come on. You _know_ I like seeing the stars come out. I won’t put my fingers on you, promise!”

“You, Ventus, are a liar. You always wait until I’m relaxed and then press them to the first bit of skin you find.”

This is true, but only because Vanitas makes the _best_ half-shriek that Ven has ever heard. He curls his fingers into his palms and rubs them together. “Look, I’m warming them up right now. Untangle yourself and we’ll both warm up faster.”

Vanitas watches him, eyes bright in the dark room. The only light comes from the moon outside and the small light glowing beside the bed. Ven reaches out and runs his finger down its side. The light grows dimmer, just a soft glow to spare them total darkness. Vanitas’s eyes catch the limited light and reflect it slightly, a predator’s gaze.

Ven’s fingers move to his cheek, still soft as they brush Vanitas’s cheek instead. Fingers escape the blanket wrap to hold them there. Vanitas closes his eyes and tips his head to kiss Ventus’s palm. Already, warmth floods him. Ven leans closer, lowering his hand until their forehead touch. Vanitas slides their noses together, eyes so bright this close. Ven’s breath catches no matter how many times they’ve been this close, no matter how many times they’ve looked at one another.

Red eyes close and their breath mingles. Ven has the barest distance to close.

He presses his fingers to the back of Vanitas’s neck and is rewarded with a jump that bashes their noses together. Swearing, Vanitas pulls back, rubbing at his nose. “You’re such a _bitch_.”

Rubbing his nose, Ventus grins at him. “You started it.”

“How can you claim that _I_ started this?”

Ven shrugs and tugs at the blankets. They unravel now that Vanitas isn’t holding them closed. “Clearly, this darkness is from you.”

Vanitas rolls his eyes. “Shitty pranks are not darkness. That’s just…rude behavior.”

“Now, you sound like Aqua.” Ven wraps one of the blankets over his shoulders and flops down on his stomach next to Vanitas.

His other half grumbles under his breath and turns on his side to look at Ventus. “You’re supposed to be the civilized one.”

Ven shrugs again. “We lost all the civility ages ago. Shame.”

Vanitas’s lips quirk. “You have none.”

“Nope.” Ven smirks back at him and then extends a hand. “Come here.”

Wresting his remaining blanket around, Vanitas moves closer, completing their blanket wrap. Ven wraps an arm around his waist and snuggles close. “You’re so warm.”

“Because I wasn’t hanging half out the window in the middle of winter. Amazing how that works.” Vanitas nudges one of his feet between Ven’s and wraps both arms around him. Despite his complaints and critiques, he’s content to warm Ventus up.

Ven snuggles closer, pressing his face to Vanitas’s shoulder. “Mmm,” he hums. “Incredible.”

Vanitas sighs and plays with the ends of his hair, pulling them away from Ventus’s neck. “You’re already falling asleep, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Ventus blows a raspberry at him and then kisses Vanitas’s neck. “Maybe a bit.”

Vanitas shivers and presses his cheek to the top of Ventus’s head. “It’s fine, I guess.” He pauses, grip going just a bit tighter. “Only if you promise to be here when _I_ wake up.”

Ven tangles his fingers in the back of Vanitas’s shirt. He presses them as close as they can get, until their hearts are beating right beside each other. “Of course,” he says, softer than before. “I’ll always be here, Vanitas.”

A sigh brushes through the spikes of his hair. “Promise, just for this morning.” _Because there is no forever._

“I’ll be here in the morning, waiting for you.” Ven slides one hand up Vanitas’s back. He lifts his head and presses their foreheads back together. “Waiting for you to grumble awake so I can say, ‘Good morning, Vani.’”

Vanitas shivers again and this time when their noses brush together, they’re both closing the gap. No chill from winter’s breath reaches the two of them, wrapped in warmth and love. A tangle of limbs, it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. Ven presses them closer, closer, as if he might still be able to make them the Ventus that was. Vanitas exhales against his cheek.

“I love you,” one of them whispers.

“I love you,” echoes back.

By the time dawn begins to light the sky, the only thing the sun can reach is their hands, fingers intertwined and still holding on.


	12. Modern AU, Prom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "You look nice."

“Ventus, come on already!” Vanitas pounds on the door. “I paid for half the damn limo and I want to use it! If Roxas convinces them to leave without us, I’ll take that money from your corpse!”

Ven ignores him, carefully drawing his fingers through the spikes of his hair one last time. If it would just sit right… The spike flops a little to the side and he wants to shave his entire head. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and tells himself to calm down. “It’s one stupid event,” he mumbles. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“ _Ventus!”_

The object of his stress shouting at him through the door is not helping. Ven exhales slowly and that’s when Vanitas _kicks his fucking door._ Ven strides over, grabs the knob and yanks the whole thing open. “Are you an animal? Don’t kick my door in!”

Vanitas blinks, mouth hanging open, and it’s the first time in recorded history that Ven has ever seen him at a loss for words. Surprising, considering Ven’s called him an animal at least once a week since they met.

Color flushes over Vanitas’s cheeks in blotchy spots. He shuts his mouth and looks away, scratching at the back of his head. “I…we have to go. Your brother is a dick, remember?”

Ven arches an eyebrow. “Our names are on the contract so they can’t leave without us. They can have the extra minutes to fuck with the fancy stuff. Are you okay?”

Vanitas shifts his weight from foot to foot, glances at him, and then quickly looks at the floor. “I’m fucking fine! You just…you look nice.”

Now Ven feels a flush rise up to the tip of his ears. He tugs at the ends of his white vest and then the cuffs of his shirt. “I…thanks. My hair’s being stupid.”

“Can’t be worse than mine.”

Ven laughs a little and reaches out to tug at a couple of Vanitas’s spikes. “That’s true. Nobody will notice me next to you.”

“Ass.” Vanitas takes his wrist and tugs it down beside them. “Hold still for one second.”

“If you try to tickle me…” Ven will break his arm. The first time when they were ten was an accident, but he’s up for repeating it.

Vanitas doesn’t even answer. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a boutonniere of bright green flowers. Carefully, he affixes it to Ven’s front as both of them go the color of tomatoes.

Ven catches Vanitas’s hand once he starts to pull back. “Thank you.”

“Whatever, like my mom was going to let me get away with _not_.” Vanitas tries to play it off, but Ven intertwines their fingers.

“Right. You know, Vanitas, you look nice too.”

A horn blasts from outside and Vanitas swears. Ven sighs. “Not if I kill him first. Come on. Let’s go show off.”


	13. KH3 Divergent, wayfinders after the war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "‘we’re almost home.’ for Terra, Aqua, Ventus and Vanitas"
> 
> Not shippy this one, but it relates enough that I want it here with the others!

The ride is silent in that tense way that is just waiting to boil over. Terra holds himself stiffly, staring at the wall instead of at his friends. Guilt keeps him from saying a word. Ven is rubbing at the dirt on one of his hands. It stubbornly refuses to come off, only smearing more over the blood splattered over his skin. His gaze skips between his friends and their fourth passenger nervously. Aqua’s gaze is split evenly between them. Concern when she looks at Terra, relief when she looks at Ven, and frustration when she looks at the last of them.

Vanitas tucked himself into a corner of the ship, wrapped his arms around himself, and has been silent since. His eyes are hidden behind his hair as he stares at the floor. His only motion is to tighten his hold on himself whenever the ship shakes slightly around them. Blood trickles down his neck and his arm.

Aqua meets Ven’s eyes and they both look at him and then back at each other. Ven shakes his head slowly. Aqua presses her lips together. After another moment, she carefully pushes herself closer to Terra and puts a hand on his arm. He jumps, but doesn’t pull away, and she rests her head on his shoulder.

Terra’s arm settles slowly, carefully around her shoulders, and then Ven squeezes against his other side. Terra holds them both and glances at Vanitas, a shadow in the corner, at the blood they can all see. He exhales and looks at Aqua.

She nods and clears her throat. “Vanitas.”

“What.” His voice is the quietest she’s ever heard it, but still empty of emotion. She wonders if he’s drained of the Unversed or just holding them back. It’s impossible to say. Maybe he’s making them in the void of space around them to be left behind until something breaks them apart.

“Do you want me to heal that?” She points as if he’s looking at her.

Vanitas’s hand shifts up his arm, covering a bit of the blood. “Why?”

The three of them trade a look and Ven manages to find words first. “Because you’re bleeding. You don’t have to be and doesn’t it hurt?”

Vanitas’s fingers tighten. “It always hurts.”

Aqua exhales and lifts Terra’s arm off of her. She waits a moment and then slowly stands and moves closer to Vanitas. He curls a bit tighter, but doesn’t last out, even when she takes a seat in front of him.

“This doesn’t have to,” she says and lifts a hand. _Cure_ falls easily from her fingers and she can see the trickle of blood stop. “I hope that was strong enough. Let me know if you need anything else.”

She could move back to her friends, but she stays seated, waiting. Vanitas’s hand moves to his shoulder and then his neck. “…No. That’s…it’s fixed.”

“Good.” Aqua still can’t see his eyes and he looks so much smaller than the masked monster in the graveyard.

“Shouldn’t it be punishment?”

The silence, weakening, comes back, stunned this time. Aqua’s mouth opens and then shuts. She looks back at Ven, who clenches a hand over his heart, and Terra, who closes his eyes slowly. “No,” Terra answers. “Punishment should never take the form of injuries.”

Vanitas inhales shakily. “That’s not-.”

The ship rocks around them, Riku shouting down an apology for the rough ride, and Aqua grabs Vanitas’s arm to steady both of them. He jerks slightly and looks up at her. His eyes are gold fractured with red, a mark of _something_ breaking. She lets go slowly and stands.

Extending a hand to him, she thinks of forgiveness for herself and the mirror that whispered at her in the dark. “The seat is safer until we make it home.”

Vanitas looks at the hand, at the people behind her. Terra simply nods while Ven manages an awkward smile.

His hand is marked with blood and dirt just like hers, but his fingers shake as he takes hers and lets her pull him up.


	14. Canon, The Graveyard

Two boys stand in a graveyard, heavy with grief. 

“This is where it happened.”   
“This is where _everything_ happens.“ 

They walk through a forest of rusted keys. Gravemarkers for the dead, the lost. Gravemarkers for children they’ve grown older than. 

"Do you remember?”   
“Pieces." 

The boy who most resembles the one who was, brushes his fingers over a key. It could fit his hand, but the raw ache it stings his fingers with is all that’s left. Warmth has no place here. 

The boy who is different, who was broken off, touches none of them. The ache in his bones, in his soul, is already too much to bear. 

"There was…a boy.”   
“A boy and a girl.”   
“Friends.”   
“Leaders." 

The blades had been filled with light when they needed help. A light that sang, a light of tales of old. The boy of wind had wanted to laugh and weep as he watched them. 

"They’re gone.”   
“Yes." 

The boy of darkness had ridden the graves, ridden the remains. The keys were rusty metal and dust, tools of war to be used again and again. That his soul was already dust was unquestionable. 

”…I think…“   
"What?”   
“We can do better than this?”   
“How?”   
“A graveyard can be a place of happier memories too." 

The boy summons a key still bright with light. The distant echo of that light flickers in the keys all around. The other boy summons his a beat later, darkness that throbs still all around this forgotten place. 

"We’ll need more than us.”   
“I know. But we can start. We were here.”   
“Sorry, we’re late." 

Twin spells send sprays of water over the keys, a layer of dust washed clean. 

"I think…a garden.”   
“Flowers?”   
“They deserve to rest in a place with new life, to remind them of what there was before…this.”   
“Even if we don’t remember?" 

A boy with eyes the color of new life shrugs. "We have life still to live. They should have their good memories." 

His echo, his other, his friend, sighs. "Then let’s start." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially inspired by this lovely artwork: https://twitter.com/sui_sai/status/1128545096574443522


	15. Legend of Zelda AU, Twili Vanitas & Chosen Hero Ventus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which maniacalchimera and I take all the best bits of other Zeldas, stir them into Breath of the Wild, and then I go ham on the drama

They were supposed to be done. Vah Naboris was freed, Lady Invi was freed, and they were done for a bit. Vanitas pulls the last fused shadow into wherever he holds things and opens a portal back out to the dunes.

Ventus, tired and aching from the fight, is ready to take a nice long rest, enjoy the fountains in Gerudo Town maybe. But the second his feet touch the sand, everything goes wrong.

Vanitas has taken them back to a set of sand-worn ruins that offer shade away from the desert heat. He’s juggling the Shadows in miniature between his claws and grinning and Ventus can’t help but grin back. It feels good to make progress in what so often feels like the impossible.

Then something melts out of the long desert shadows and grabs Vanitas around the neck. He chokes and Ven jerks upright, but a sword is already bashing into his chest and he hears at least one rib crack. He collapses to the sand, wheezing and struggling to breathe, but squints up to try and determine their enemy.

“Usurper,” Vanitas chokes out, hands clawing at the grip around his neck. “I’ll  _ kill y _ -.” He gasps as the grip tightens, eyes squeezing shut.

“Kill me,” the tall Twili says softly. “With trinkets? You are a fool. Seeking out the light for assistance, believing that ancient,  _ tired _ magic and  _ broken heroes _ can save you.” The cloaked shadow is so smug. Ven fumbles for a weapon, any weapon, and then cries out as a booted foot smashes down on his arm. “They can’t even save themselves, Vanitas. You stupid fool, if you want to believe in the light so much...”

He turns and throws something from his pocket. It grows larger, spinning in the air, and then settles. It’s a mirror, plain but large and is already catching the sunlight. Vanitas is thrust out into the sun and right in front of the mirror.

Ven has to get up, he has to stop him. He struggles, but his ribs and his burns protest and he’s not  _ fast enough _ .

“Embrace it, Vanitas, the light of this world.” The mirror is tipped, catching the full strength of the desert sun, and refracts it directly onto the small Twili imp.

Vanitas screams, an awful jangling sound like bells being shredded under giant claws and Ven doesn’t remember getting to his feet. He swings a sword through the shadow, but it’s already disappearing and Vanitas drops onto the sand.

His colors are wrong, flipped so that he’s more white than black. He should never be this solid in the sun and Ven can’t breathe, can’t speak. He dives over Vanitas, shielding him what little he can and gets an arm around him. “Vani?” He chokes the name out, so scared of silence.

An eye opens, so red in the newly white spots, and Vanitas exhales a horrible shaky rattle. “Still...here.”

But not for long. Ven keeps his body over Vanitas, keeps one arm wrapped around him, and fumbles the stupid slate into his other hand. He yanks up the map, searching for the icon he needs, and then presses it harder than needed. The familiar blue lights appear and they leave the desert behind.

The forest and the spring are much cooler, practically night dark compared to the desert. Ven ignores how much he hates water getting in his boots and jumps into the spring. It shimmers with a subtle power and he remembers Vani whispering to him of the magic of goddesses and dragons.

There is no greater power in their universe and if this can’t help him... Ven doesn’t finish the thought, wading to the front of the goddess statue, Vani in his arms. He’s still breathing, barely; there’s still time. The statue is quiet when he gets in front of it, but he knows power lies here. It’s the same power that’s supposed to have blessed  _ him _ . Courage, strength, this is the home of his bit of power and it has to work.

Ven knees down, the water rising to his chest and floats Vanitas on top of it, still in his arms. “Please,” he whispers. “I’ll do anything, but please save him.” 

No light comes from the statue, no voice whispers in his mind. The spring is dark, peaceful, and entirely normal. A good place to rest and recover from a long journey, a good place to di-.

“No,” Ven shouts at the statue. “No, you can’t do this! I’ve done everything asked of me, every single thing! Practically twice now! I’ve given up a life, my life for this. I never asked for it, but people need me and I can’t let them down! For once, do something for me!”

The quiet is absolute and he recalls too easily Aqua standing in the same water, tears falling down her cheeks as nobody answers her for too many years to count. Alone, abandoned, and doomed.

“Ventus,” Vani hisses to him, claws resting on his sleeve. “You have to take them and stop him. Please, my people.”

Ven shakes his head stubbornly.  _ No. _ “You promised,” he chokes out. “That was your responsibility, not mine. That was the  _ deal. _ ”

There’s what could almost be a chuckle and Vani’s eyes slide closed. “I know. It should be. I’m...sorry to put more shit on your shoulders. Please, get them to Isa at least. He...can save them.”

Ventus can’t do this. He looks at the future, at the battles still yet to come, and he cannot do this. He can’t face them alone. Vanitas has been with him for so long; he’ll fail without the Twili to help him.

He still has a hold on Vanitas and it tightens. He can’t be without Vanitas, so he won’t be. If the goddess won’t answer him, then he’ll do it himself. She blessed him with magic and it’s his to use.

Ventus reaches inside and feels for that spark, the one that always seems to come back to him when he thinks he can’t stand up one more time. It flickers in his chest and he grasps it tightly. “Fix him,” he whispers to the piece of the goddess that always comes to his call.

Light rises around them both, gentle and warm and Vanitas’s eyes widen. “What are you doing? Ventus,  _ don’t. _ Stop it, Ven!”

But he won’t stop, he won’t quit. Vanitas’s claws scrabble at his front, catching in his scarf, but the light grows brighter, brighter, and neither of them can see anything anymore.

Vanitas’s eyes open again, his hands clenched around a long blue scarf, and he’s back to normal. His  _ real _ normal with his body and his power back. He’s normal and breathing and going to live. And he’s entirely alone.

Ventus is gone.

The only signs of him are the scarf and the slate resting at the feet of the goddess statue. 

The scream that rises out of his throat splits the air and the wildlife in close proximity sprint for safety. A demon is in their lands, angered and pained, and the sounds of shattered rock falling only encourage them to burrow deeper.

Vanitas leaves the goddess statue in pieces and teleports away. The scarf is wrapped around his neck, warm but so heavy. He doesn’t think about where he’s going until Isa’s arms wrap around him and the dam breaks.

* * *

The chosen hero’s sword is dull in a Twili’s hand. That he was able to pull it at all is entirely thanks to the mark hastily pressed into his soul. Vanitas tightens his grip on it and ignores the sting of pain as it lights up with its real power. The light of it burns against his palm, but it is nothing after the burn of the desert sun.

The heavy doors swing open under his hand, the only light coming from the sword that will rend any darkness. It’s eerie and gloomy and not in the way he appreciates. This is no comforting dusk - it’s the atmosphere of a tomb.

Vanitas lets the door shut again and waits for his eyes to adjust. The castle is half in ruins, tapestries torn and rocks falling from the walls. A hundred years have been no kinder here than anywhere else in the nation. He puts a hand to the scarf wound around his neck, presses a fold of it to his face, and breathes. “Almost there,” he murmurs and wishes there was any kind of presence beside him.

He walks through the ruins, bare feet taking notice of cold stone or other debris fallen over the floor. The burn in his hand is constant, ignored, and he sweeps the blade up to check for any creeping shadows.

He is, surprisingly, alone. Nothing sneaks up on him, no monster jumps from behind a ruined door to try and remove him. Perhaps they’ve learned of the way he took back his own kingdom, mercilessly and with nothing but rage in his eyes. Vanitas doubts it. They’re idiots, flesh and bone constantly reknit together under a blood moon with no thoughts other than survival and ravaging.

The Twili drops from a tumble of stones from a wall that was knocked in years ago and walks into the first large room he’s come to since the entrance. The hall is a mess, tables broken and beautiful dishes nothing but shards on the floor. He minds his step as he picks his way across, sweeping the long side of his skirt slightly higher.

He pauses at the head of the room, where the high table is mostly intact. The chairs behind it are the most thronelike, made for royalty and distinguished guests. Vanitas presses his hand to his chest again and wishes. But wishes are for children and he does not have time to linger on this one.  _ Perhaps, in another life. _

Corrupted shadows drip between the stones as he moves further into the castle. He must be approaching the beast. He climbs up another long set of stairs and finds himself facing yet another set of doors. He hefts the sword and enters.  _ The sooner this is over, the better _ .

The throne room is still beautiful even in disrepair. But Vanitas sees none of it. Kneeling in front of the thrones, facing the doors with hands clasped around a sword hilt, is a knight. 

The door shuts, it’s thump almost louder than the pounding of Vanitas’s heart. He clutches the scarf around his neck and his voice comes out weak, scared. “Ventus?”

The knight stands, sword held in an easy grip, and lifts his head. His face is deathly white, his eyes gold, but it’s Ventus standing there and staring at him with Xehanort’s hatred in his eyes.

The Master Sword sputters and then brightens; Vanitas doesn’t know if it senses its true master or just the darkness that has a hold over him. All Vanitas knows for certain is that there is no way that he’ll be able to cut Ventus down. He holds the sword pointed at the ground and tries to think of something to do. Ventus is gone; this isn’t him.

_ But if it is. If you could give back his light and his life! _

Ventus charges at him, sword swinging and Vanitas flips backward, landing on the balls of his feet and then rolling out of the way of another strike. It’s relentless, Ventus at the peak of his ability, and Vanitas can’t even lift his sword in return. The flat of the blade smacks into his arm and sends him rolling.

Vanitas hisses between his teeth and blocks the next strike. The light off his sword blazes and Ventus retreats, blade lifted in a guard. The light hurts him, of course it does. Vanitas stands up slowly and lowers his sword again. “Ventus,  _ please _ . Fight him off, you’re stronger than he is!”   
  
_ But is he? When his courage, his heart have been given away, what does he have left to fight with? _

There’s no answer and Ventus lunges for him again. Vanitas blocks with his sword and slams a hand out, a giant clawed hand grabbing Ventus and trying to hold him still. “I’ll give it all back, just please, let me!” The body in his grip struggles, but it’s as cold as it is pale, more like a doll than a person. Vanitas feels the bottom drop out of his stomach.

Ventus's sword slices through the summoned hand and he drops back to the ground. He doesn’t hesitate, lunging again to try and kill him.

Vanitas wants to scream in rage, in pain, and instead he locks swords yet again. He can’t win this. Ventus is the hero of this story, the one who will end the era of darkness and rebuild this world. Vanitas was only ever here to demand more out of him.

He forces the sword to flare with light, forces Ventus to back up. Vanitas hefts the Master Sword, blazing with light that he has no right to. Ventus is shading his face with an upraised arm and isn’t prepared to strike.

“You don’t get to have him! He’ll destroy you and get everything that he deserves. He’ll get his life back; he’ll get his peace back. You don’t get to take it from him!  _ And neither do  _ **_I_ ** !” Vanitas screams the words and brings the sword of light cleaving down.  _ His heart belongs to him! _

A crescent of pure light sweeps from the blade and slams directly into Ventus’s chest and the sword point buries itself into Vanitas’s. Like the death of a star, the light explodes outward from both of them. It burns for a moment, but then goes soft and warm.

When Vanitas blinks his eyes open again, things are different. He’s small again, annoying, but alive. He flips into the air and races across the room to where Ventus is collapsed onto the ground. He looks less pale and Vanitas reaches out to touch his face. “Ventus?”

There’s a groan and Ventus slowly opens his eyes. “What...happened? Vani?” He sits up suddenly, wrapping his arms around Vanitas. “You’re okay!”

“I should be saying that to you,” Vanitas mutters, but nuzzles his face into Ventus’s chest. It’s so warm and he can hear the beat of Ventus’s heart again. “Idiot.”

Ven squeezes him and then lifts him up to eye level. “I’d do it again.”

Vanitas rubs at his eyes. “Please...don’t. I can’t...I can’t be the hero, Ven.”

“Welcome to my life!” Ven smiles and Vanitas darts out of his grasp to touch his cheeks instead. “Vani?”

“If you  _ ever _ try to leave me again, I’ll kill you.”

Ven bursts into laughter and covers Vanitas’s tiny hands with his. “Okay, okay. It’s a deal.”

Vanitas breathes in and then leans forward to kiss Ventus’s forehead. “A promise.”

“A promise,” Ven repeats in a whisper. His mouth opens, he hesitates, but before Vanitas can encourage him to keep speaking a roar splits the air and shakes the floor beneath them. Xehanort is furious and not to be kept waiting.

Vanitas darts over to where the scarf and Master Sword lay waiting. “Come on. We’re finally right here.”

Ven sighs, scratches his head, and then stands to claim his belongings. It’ll have to wait just a bit longer. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in seeing a request filled, follow my tumblr @bookwormally. I reblog request/prompt posts every couple weeks!


End file.
